Exploration: A Collection of SothexTormod Drabbles
by Black Katt15
Summary: Warning: Yaoi, half-peeled lemons, kink, and an overdose of fluff. Certain warnings before certain sections. May be added on to in the future. Just a few little drabbles exploring Sothe and Tormod's love life. Ratings K -MA
1. Chapter 1

**FE10(Radiant Dawn)**

**"Jumbles"  
>Rating: T<strong>

I sigh as I squint at the pages, the jumbled mess on them making little sense to me. I can pick out a few words here and there, but I could barely read a full sentence. Not without Tormod… He had been helping me learn how to read. I knew what I had to know – or, I guessed at it, anyway. I was pretty sure I knew the words that meant some kind of food, from stores I had to steal from. I knew "Daein" – that one was agiven, being everywhere in my home country. I knew the word that meant "knives" for when I had to steal new ones… Or maybe that was just "weapons". But, that was really it. I didn't even know how to write my own name – I'm still a little shaky on that, actually. Why do I have to know, anyway? It's not _that_ useful… Damn you, Micaiah… I sigh, rubbing my forehead as I try to sound words out to myself. This isn't making any sense…

"Need a little help, Sothe?" I jump, automatically closing the book and blushing, glancing at the tent flaps to see a smirking Tormod peeking in. Yeah, so I asked him to help me and he already knows I can't read… I still find it slightly embarrassing.

"I'm fine." … What's the point in lying? "… A little." I blush deeper and glare down at the book when I hear him laugh, stepping in and sitting with me.

"You might wanna start by opening it."

"It was open, you idiot."

"Then why'd you close it?"

"… Because."

"And I'm the idiot?" He rolls his eyes and just smiles at me, and I feel myself melt. Damn, how does he do that? He's the only one that can… And I'm sure he's taken advantage of that ever since he found out my feelings. He loops his arms around my waist to open the book, resting his chin on my shoulder. I feel myself shiver a little, rolling my eyes when I hear him chuckle in my ear. "Alright, focus. You know this…" Yeah, focus. Easy for him to say. Damn tease. I just clear my throat, brow furrowing as I attempt to read the words he points to, shivering a little now and then as he softly sounds some out in my ear. I chew my lip and finally close my eyes. My head hurts.

"Tormod, stop… This… Isn't making sense to me."

"… Then let's take a break." I blink as he closes the book, tossing it aside. All of a sudden, I find myself pinned to the ground, a smirking fire sage on top of me. "I'm sure this will make a lot more sense to you." He grins before pressing our lips together, and I lean up into the kiss. Yes, this is something I'm more willing for. However – I choke back a soft moan as his tongue slithers in and explores my mouth – I doubt it will do much to help my concentration.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

**"Craving Blades"  
>Rating: R<strong>  
><span>Warning: This segment contains knife-play and bondage. Don't like? Don't read.<span>

"Sothe!" I turn in time to see orange – that's my only warning before we both go stumbling into a bush. I roll my eyes at the laughing – Micaiah's the loudest – and push Tormod off of me, standing and brushing dirt off of myself. He gets back up, too, laughing himself and helping me instead of bothering to get the smudges on his orange robes. He pokes at a thin cut on my exposed stomach – must've been a branch – and I shiver. "Whoops. Sorry. But, hey, teach me to use knives!" Before I can even reply, he's grabbed my wrist and started dragging me into the trees. At least he's smart enough to know not to learn around so many people…

I blink at him, not bothering to fight him as I let him drag me until we're farther from the others. Tormod with knives? Aha. I pull my hand back from him, crossing my arms and shaking my head. "… No."

"_Yes._ C'mon, pleeease?"

"You with knives would be a hazard to everyone involved."

"What if, like, I don't have any more tomes and some guy is about to kill me?"

"Run. You're a fast runner."

"Sothe! If I'm trusted with fire, I'm pretty sure I can be trusted with knives." He smirks, crossing his arms to mock me.

… He has a good point. Though, there was that time he almost burnt down our tent… Though that might have been slightly my fault – well, that's another story. It _would_ be good for him in a life or death situation… Tormod with knives…

I gasp as I feel my knife being pulled from my waist, not quick enough to snatch it back. He smirks as he holds it away from me. "Or maybe I should just teach myself."

_"Teach yourself? Don't be ridiculous; give me my knife back." I feel myself blushing. Goddess, when he gives me that look…_

_"… Nah." That grin is my only warning before he tackles me for the second time that day, pinning my hands behind my back and tying them with my scarf. I gasp and squirm under him – who knew the loss of using your arms was so debilitating. He laughs._

_"What're you doing?"_

_"Playing with knives…" I can hear the smirk in his voice as he kisses down my ear and to my neck, making me shiver and my face flush. He yanks my shirt off as far as it'll go, resting around my bound wrists, before rolling me over and capturing my lips in a passionate kiss. It was enough to make my mind go numb and distract me from the slightly uncomfortable position – until I felt the knife press to my skin and I gasp into his mouth. He breaks the kiss to shush me and latch onto my neck, making me whimper and give him more of my skin. Damn him, doing this to me… Out here, in the dirt and grass, with no warning… Why in the world is my own blade pressing against my skin turning me on? Is he actually going to cut me…? … _Why_ is that thought so arousing? I'm messed up…_

_But I can't help the moan, the shiver as the cool flat of the blade runs over my heated skin. He delicately circles the tip around my nipple, not hard enough to make any mark – just ghosting the skin. My face is hot as I lick my lips, taking a deep breath and trying to lift my head up a little to watch him. I can see the fire in his eyes, an odd intensity before he smirks up at me and – almost experimentally – drags the edge across my chest. I cry out, and he clamps his mouth over mine to smother me as I shudder. Shit, that stings, that hurts, that's electrifying my skin… It's… So good…_

_I'm so messed up._

_He breaks our messy kiss and I lick my lips, panting as I relish in the intensified sensations lined along the cut across my chest. _His_ cut across my chest. I gasp as I feel his tongue prodding at it, biting my lip to stifle the hiss and the moan and the whimper. Then, without warning, another slice into my skin as his tongue continued to lap at the drawn blood of his first mark, hand clamping over my mouth to muffle my cry. His thumb presses into the new wound and I moan, feeling my eyes water a bit behind closed lids. This shouldn't feel this good – pain isn't supposed to intermingle with such intense _pleasure_. They're too damned opposite… But that sure isn't stopping me from moaning and gasping like a wench as he nips and licks and prods and teases those inflamed areas until I'm panting and gasping for breath. Cursing – cursing him, cursing my body._

_He presses our lips together again, tongue invading my mouth, and – oh, I can taste my own blood. I moan his name into the rough kiss, hands working and pulling at the fabric binding them. How did he learn to tie knots like this? I nip back against his lips, trying to show him I'm not just gonna let him get away with this. He responds by pulling my pants down to my knees and grinding into me. I can't help the moan-_

"Hellooo, Sothe?" I shake my head, blinking at the hand waving in front of my face and the amused voice. I feel my face flush as I take in my surroundings, blinking at Tormod. "… What're you thinking about?" He raises an eyebrow at me as I fumble for words. Then I see the knife in his hand, his guard down. I quickly snatch it and turn my back on him, guessing by the heat on my cheeks that I had to be as red as a bunch of cherries. "Hey!"

"_No_, Tormod."

… Damn. I need to control my mind…

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

**"Settled Insinuations"  
>Rating: M - MA<strong>  
>It was the furthest we had ever gone.<p>

My lips were wrapped around his length, face flushed as I hoped I was doing this right. His pants were around his ankles(to be honest, mine had somehow ended up the same way) and his hands were tangled in my hair, pulling at the mess it had become. He was groaning softly, panting lightly and stifling himself, breathing my name in whispers. It was late at night, and we didn't want to wake the others. Sweet goodnight kisses had led to tangled tongues had led to biting had led to stripping had led to this. I pull my mouth from him to catch my breath, one hand still wrapped around him and pumping him. He whimpers, blinking down at me and licking his lips. I don't think I've ever seen Tormod look so needy… "Sothe, don't stop…" I shiver. His voice was low, a hushed begging trying to be a command. I have to obey. I look his length over once more before leaning in again, trying to take more of him.

I gasp and moan around him as I feel a slick finger push into me – Goddess only knows when he lubricated them and how – but that must have done something for him. He groaned loudly and the hand still on my head forced me down, taking all of him, choking and shuddering as I feel him hit the back of my throat. He quickly releases me to let me pull back, coughing a bit and panting. "S-Sorry…" I shake my head, managing to catch my breath in time to moan as a second finger slides into me. It stings a bit, being stretched like that, but the sensations – I can't describe them. He's just brushing my walls all the right ways… I grip the sheet beneath us tightly and shut my eyes, biting my lip to smother another moan.

"… Think you could do that for me again…?" It takes my mind a moment to figure out what he's talking about. Take all of him like that again? It hurt a bit, was somewhat uncomfortable – Oooh, Goddess… I shudder as he pushes his fingers deeper into me, blinking my eyes open to see him watching me so intently. He wants to make me feel good… I want to make him feel good. I close my mouth on him again, swallowing around him and hesitating, listening to the way his breath hitches. I move my tongue and force myself to take his length, shuddering once again as I feel him in the back of my throat – but it doesn't hurt that much this time. Maybe it's because I knew it was coming. He groans loudly, cursing, fingers curling inside of me—I practically cry out around him, thankfully muffled, as my entire body quakes. His fingers tighten in my hair again in response. I just fucking saw _stars_, what did he… I pull off of him, panting for breath and still trying to stop shuddering.

"D-Do that… Whatever you just did with your f-fingers… Do it again…" I hardly recognize my own voice. He's just blinking at me, probably as surprised as I am, when I feel his fingers moving once more – and then I bite the inside of my cheek to muffle the loud moan when his fingers prod that spot again. The next time I open my eyes I see him grinning a bit, that curious, devious glint in his eyes.

"That good? Right _here_?" His fingers slam into me, lancing that spot and I bury my face against his leg to muffle myself, all but screaming his name as my body trembles. His fingers just keep exploring that one area – rubbing, nudging, _torturing_… I'm a quivering mess, arms and legs ready to give out. So much for showing him I can take it. He runs his free hand down my back and I gasp softly, biting my lip. Everything is so electrified… "You're so sensitive, Sothe… I love it…" I blush, swallowing hard before pushing myself up to run my tongue over him again, smirking when I hear his breath catch as my tongue traces his sac.

I feel Tormod tense, and then I hear it, too – a bit too late. The tent flap opens, and there's a yawn. "Okay, boys, maybe you should get some shut eye–" Shit. I feel myself turn at least twelve shades of red, Tormod's own face easily rivaling his hair color as we clumsily pull away from each other, fighting to cover ourselves. I end up with the sheet and Tormod has his shorts halfway up with his cloak covering himself – but not doing much to hide how hard he is.

"N-Nolan! H-Hey, y-yeah, shut eye! We'll get right on that…!" … I shoot a bit of a glare at Tormod. That was just _painful_.

Nolan just blinks at us and clears his throat before letting the flap fall again, and I'm sure we're both listening intently for his footfalls back to his tent. I finally release the breath I hadn't known I was holding.

"So…" Tormod blinks at me, starting to scoot closer again.

"Don't even think about it."

Mood ruined.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Oops. I had these done on April 30th and could've sworn I put them up here. Sorry... XD**

**"Love Bites"**  
><strong>Rating: T<strong>

I laugh softly as Tormod kisses down my neck, fingers lightly ghosting over my exposed stomach and unintentionally tickling me. Just slightly. He grins and moves back up to catch my lips, and I let myself sink into the comfort of his kiss. "You've been so affectionate lately… What's with you?" I smile as I run my hand through his hair, scooting myself closer to him in our bedroll.

"Mm, I don't know. I just love you. … A lot…" He blushes a bit and kisses me again, and I roll my eyes at the small fluttery feeling in my stomach. Damn him; he makes me feel like some girl. I feel him brushing his lips over my neck and sucking lightly at the skin again and I shiver, turning my head to give him more access. "Sothe… Can I… Bite you?" I blink at the odd question, glancing at him again to see him blushing as he sits back a bit.

"… You don't have to ask, Tormod…" I chuckle a bit. I wouldn't mind… Doesn't he know that?

He laughs a little and just shrugs, leaning to my neck again. "It's just… It doesn't mean the same thing to beorc as it does to laguz. Well, not as strong as a meaning…"

Now he had my attention. "… Well, what is it?"

He blushes even more, hiding in my neck again and kissing the skin. "Well… When… Mates… Bite each other… They mean that they want to be… Mates for life. … You know…" I blink and blush a little myself. Then what he was asking when he wanted to bite me… "… Nevermind. It's too soon. I get it…"

I think for a moment before shaking my head and smirking at him, rolling us over and pushing him down. I trace my lips over his neck to try and find a good spot, finally kissing the dip at the base of his neck. I rub his arms before taking a breath and biting down hard on his neck. He gasps and shudders, and I lap at the blood I drew. I finally pull back and smile at him. "Now you're mine for life."

He just smiles, sitting up and moving to my neck. I expose as much skin to him as I can. "I love you, Sothe."

"I love you, too…"

**"Fateful Discoveries"  
>Rating: T<strong>

I shiver as I feel lips at my neck, warm arms encasing me. A yawn escapes as I blindly scoot closer into the warm body at my back, sighing softly and smiling a bit to myself, the sleepy haze not yet lifted. And for once, I was completely content to wake up slowly. I make a small grunt of approval as lips continue to gently caress my neck, smiling at the familiar chuckle that graces my ears. Tormod nuzzles into my neck and I feel his breath ghost over my skin. He's gently rubbing my chest, pressing our bodies close. I finally let my eyes open slowly, turning my head to give him a smile and immediately meeting his lips. I blink and laugh a little into the kiss, sighing when he breaks it. "Good morning to you, too…" I turn in his arms, brushing my fingers through his hair and slowly taking everything in. I'm sore, but… That's expected. It's nothing compared to when…

The light is filtering in through the canvas of our tent, telling me the morning is pretty late. Much, much later than we're usually woken. Today must be a recovery day. We really picked the right night, then…

"Last night was amazing…" He pecks my lips again, then moves back to my jaw and neck. "I love you so much, Sothe. … I know it was hard for you… Thank you."

"… I'm glad that I didn't stop you. I… Almost did. But… Now… You're replacing those memories with new ones…" I close my eyes and take a deep breath. I've never felt so… Serene. Especially since… That day. But it's almost like some weight has been lifted from me. I've never felt so absolutely safe trusting someone, letting someone have me completely.

"… Good ones. … Right?" I open my eyes again and almost laugh at his blushing face, leaning to kiss him.

"… Yes. Very good ones…" He grins, rubbing my back and leaning to kiss my neck again. I shiver, but relax against him, staying close. "Mm… How long do you think we can get away with staying in here…? I don't want to move."

He laughs, shrugging and just leaning back up to kiss me. "Who knows? We should make the best of it, though." He pulls me closer to him and I lean to return kisses to his neck, smiling at a fairly new love bite. "Maybe we can sleep all day… I wouldn't mind taking a page from what's-his-name's book. Haar's?" I chuckle and nod in his neck, quickly making him into my pillow. Tormod never had the greatest memory…

…

I blink my eyes back open after a few moments, the haze finally lifted as common sense takes its place once again. And I can finally hear what it's been screaming in my ear. It makes my breath catch in my throat and my heart stop for a long moment. "… Muarim." I feel Tormod tense a little as I say the name, only tightening the sudden knots in my stomach as I push myself up. "He… What if he…?"

"… Don't worry about him, Sothe… I… Want to tell him."

"If he sees us, you might not _get the chance _to…" I quickly reach for his clothes when I find where the pieces were discarded.

"I told you, it doesn't matter. He'll be able to smell it." Goddess, not helping in the slightest. I just shove his clothes at him and move to wrestle myself into my own pants, tiny stinging pains jolting me now and then.

"Get dressed…!" I hiss at him, buckling my belt. He rolls his eyes and pulls his shorts on. He's nervous. His hands are shaking. Maybe we shouldn't have…

I hear voices outside of the tent. Muarim's name. "What's the problem?" _Shit_. I quickly glance at Tormod and toss his cloak over his shoulders. Tormod explained to me the extreme significance of biting in laguz mating and, smell us or not, I'd prefer to take that factor away.

There's a growl as the flaps of our tent are thrust open, both of us freezing, my hands in the middle of clasping the cloak. Both of us still shirtless. That's when it hits me that _my_ bites aren't covered. _Shitshitshit_.

"Er… H-Hey, Dad…" Tormod gives a forced grin, accompanied by a cough that I'm pretty sure was meant to be a laugh. We pull away from each other and sit rigidly at attention. He said he was ready for this, but I'm not sure he is. Muarim doesn't seem very happy and Tormod doesn't seem as confident as he was trying to be earlier. Me? Oh, I'm pretty much frozen in place. Aha.

"What in the world is going on here—What is _that_." We both follow his gaze to the bites littering my neck and chest and cringe. Not that he needed them to know. But bites mean a little more than just sex…

"I, aha, what? No idea what you mean… "

"You've been _lying _to me."

"What? No, I'm not—"

"Saying you're just friends when you constantly stink of each other! Men are not permitted to be with other men!"

I manage to find Tormod's hand, inching over slowly. I give it a squeeze of reassurance, for that's all I can really do right now. Muarim is positively frightening. I can only imagine how Tormod feels… I hear him swallow hard. "… Well… You said to find a pretty beorc."

"A pretty beorc _female_! I thought I raised you better than this! This… This is a horrible _sin_!"

Tormod had my hand in a vice. I glance over to him again and what pissed me off way more than what was spewing out of the tiger's mouth was the fact that the sage looked close to tears. He was going to _cry_. Goddessdammit, no. _Now _I was pissed off. I've never had a father, but they sure as hell aren't supposed to be like this, are they? I give his hand another squeeze, glaring at the ground and staying quiet for only a moment longer. "… You raised him just fine."

"Those who go against the Goddess are severely punished! How do you expect—" He's ignoring me. No, fuck no, I wasn't going to go ignored this time. I stand up, trying to seem somewhat formidable, but I'm not as tall and not nearly as big as Muarim.

"He's your _son_. And you're yelling at him about being a sinner? Where in the holy writings does it say anything about how to love each other?" I remember listening to Rhys in the last war. He would read them every now and then, and people would ask questions I could never bring myself to. Including questions about the Goddess's view on love.

"_My_ son would be smart enough not to lie with another man! Especially not one as vexatious as you…!"

"Are you saying he isn't your son?" I hadn't wanted to yell, but oh Goddess no. "Are you trying to _disown_ him? Because of _this_?"

"Sothe…" I could hear the warning in Tormod's voice, but I would not heed it.

"So _what_ if your son is queer? You should care that he's happy, not be chewing his ear off without knowledge of the subject and driving him to _tears_."

There was a growl before a fist as hard as rock barreled into my nose with the force of a flying boulder. I hear and feel a sickening _crunch_ and fly back to hit the ground hard. "Sothe!" It felt like my whole _face_ was broken and I could feel the blood pouring from my nose like a river. I clap my hand over it to try to smother the flow. I knew I was pushing it, and I knew it would be one fucker of a punch. But _damn_. "D-Dad, stop…!"

"_This _is his punishment!"

I could hear the tears in Tormod's voice and I force my eyes open, vision swimming for a few seconds before straightening out. I see the sage push past the tiger and kneel by me, helping me sit up and hugging me.

"Get away from him…!"

I didn't want this to happen to him, too. That was the last thing he needed. "L-Listen to him…"

"_No_, I'm not leaving you… I…"

I hear another growl as Tormod buries his face in the crook of my neck, and I feel a few wet tears against the skin. "Look at what you have done…!"

"_Me_?" I can't help shooting the glare at him as I pull Tormod closer with my free arm, rubbing his back. "You're the one that's done this to him. You're not being a very good father." Oh, I knew I did it now. I see the way his scowl changes and he growls again. I quickly scramble to pull the sage up with me, grabbing his hand.

"And this is when we run…!" I couldn't tell the way I'm sure Tormod can, but something said that Muarim is past the point of caring about how hurt we get. We sprint out of the tent and there's almost something like a roar behind us as the tent is ripped through in our pursuit. I give the sage's hand a squeeze, and he pulls us to run even faster.

**"Loyalty"  
>Rating: T<strong>

Micaiah did wonders on healing my nose. It hurt like a bitch, but at least it wasn't stuck being crooked. Tormod and I have managed to wander off somewhere from camp. It looks like we're at the edges of some village or something. He's been really down ever since the incident with Muarim. Usually, on a day as comfortable as this, he'd be dragging me around the woods until someone needed us. Now, he's reminding me so much of that Soren guy, it's scary.

… Well, okay. That's pushing it. But it's just weird… I got so used to his annoying constant enthusiasm. I pull him to sit down on a rock with me and he obeys silently. He's always been horrible at hiding when he's upset. I sigh and just lean to kiss his cheek, squeezing his hand. "Give him time. It was just a big shock to him. No one can stay mad at you, Tormod. … Trust me; I know." He smiles at that and just leans to rest his head on my shoulder.

"… It just hurts. … But don't you dare suggest giving this up again. I told you, I love you. And I always will." I feel the heat rise in my cheeks and sigh, just wrapping my arm around his waist and kissing his head. It felt almost bittersweet, given the circumstances, but… We had an understood silence. It was nice.

… Until a rock hit me in the back of the head.

I curse as my hand flies to the spot, feeling a little bit of blood. "What in the—"

"Queers!"

We turn to see a group of three boys, maybe about thirteen. Fourteen at the most. They're all scowling at us, and one has another rock ready. He chucks it and we both duck, it narrowly missing Tormod's shoulder. I glare, starting to reach for my knife before Tormod gives me a look and grabs my hand.

"What? I was just gonna scare them a little…" He rolls his eyes in reply, but fake retching sounds catch our attention.

"You guys are disgusting!"

Tormod just raises an eyebrow, holding up our linked hands. "What, you think _this_ is disgusting?" Then he grins, pushing me down on the miniature boulder. I start to gasp before he clasps our lips together, taking advantage of my open mouth to slip his tongue in to join mine. I almost push him away, but… _Goddess_, he's a good kisser. I squeak into his mouth when I feel his hands squeeze my ass.

I hear groans of repulsion and curses followed by footsteps fading. I push him away and wipe my mouth, glaring. "_Why _the f—"

"They left, didn't they?" He smirks, leaning down to nip that one spot on my neck and I shiver.

No one can stay mad at Tormod for long.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: So, all of my stories previously posted? I had yet to play FE10. Now that I have, I understand the time frame, and I had a few more questions about Sothe and Tormod's relationship. So, I logic'd them out.**

**Now is probably also a good time to point out, if you hadn't already noticed, these drabbles are in no particular order (certainly not chronological), and I'm not making any effort to keep writing styles consistent. It's just a drabble dump. Anyway, I'll stop rambling now.**

**"Bond"  
>Rating: T<strong>

_"No offense, Tormod, but thieves are loners. I can't have you tagging along, snapping twigs and making lots of noise!"_

But he did tag along, and there was no argument that would stop him. On and off the battlefield, he was always there. It was something the thief had grown accustomed to, and almost… Missed, once he was on his own again. The two had developed a rhythm, strategies; they could fight perfectly in sync with one another. It was strange – Sothe fought with silence, finesse, striking from the shadows in a blur of movement, while Tormod harnessed raw power, commanded spirits as magic-wielders do, the flames dancing around him clearly drawing attention. But, somehow, it worked together. _They_ worked together.

It was a bond that transcended years. Sothe laid upon stone warmed by his own blood, ready to accept the fate the axe above him was poised to grant as the Silver-Haired Maiden cried out his name, desperately trying to race to his position. Flames engulfed the enemy above him, momentarily blinding the rogue as the warrior's body withered away in the white hot blaze. A grinning face and a shock of orange greeted Sothe when his vision cleared, a gloved hand outstretched to him. He took it, and they meshed back into their rhythm without missing a beat; no one would know three years had passed between the young men.

It's the kind of bond that leaves you terrified at its strength. Why? When you lay awake at night, thoughts plaguing your pitiful attempts at sleep, you realize that the one resting beside you has become a necessary part of your world. You cannot fathom him leaving your life. The idea petrifies you, freezes your very core.

You realize that you would do _anything_ for him.

The two never say so. It is both understood and feared. Their feelings… They transcend being mere allies, comrades, friends. Stolen glances when clothing is peeled away, blazing cheeks and averted eyes, innocent touches that linger for a split second too long, one admiring the way his too small clothes hug his lithe frame, the other noting how beautiful his face is framed by flames. Both too scared to voice their thoughts; both unaware that they share these feelings.

Then green encases orange on the battlefield and their world begins to shatter.

The sage opened his eyes, ruby blinking into topaz. Confused. The redhead had realized his mistake, accepted his fate. He had strayed too far from his stealthy companion, gotten surrounded, cornered, couldn't take everyone. Not on his own. The poison tipped sword would have been his end.

Would have been, if his green-haired comrade had not arrived – frightened by being separated from the sage, and absolutely terrified upon discovery of his fate. The decision had been instantaneous, without a single conscious thought.

The battle had been much tougher than anticipated. Healing supplies were exhausted. The rogue's knives had been broken, the sage's tomes almost completely depleted.

Scarlet eyes fell to the blade glinting between their bodies, violet toxins mixing with an all too familiar crimson coating the steel. The sharpened point stopped just before reaching the magic-wielder, the rest embedded within porcelain skin. Those golden eyes gleamed, grinning despite their pain; his sage was safe. The weapon was wrenched from his body with a sickening, suctioning sound, a cry tearing from the rogue's lips. His support was lost; arms shook, hands slid down the wall, body crumpled to the floor. Something of a roar ripped itself from the sage's throat, tome disintegrating in his fingers as flames engulfed their attacker, the subservient spirits themselves shrieking as they burned away the blood-soaked steel.

"Sothe!" The young man fell to his knees next to the limp body, eyes glued to the gushing gash in its abdomen. The one meant for his body. Fingers trembled, fumbled, flew to rip his cloak from his shoulders, press it to the wound, red quickly flooding orange. "Sothe! Answer me, dammit…" Bloodied fingers prodded at pale cheeks, ruby eyes blinking rapidly to fend off any tears. Desperately willing topaz to greet them. "… Micaiah! … L-Laura! … I need a healer! Please…"

The sounds of battle echoed throughout the hall, but the sage was deaf to it all. His body curled over his ally, comrade, friend, cradling the man close, reddened cloth clasped firmly against the injury. The sage had never felt so weak, so helpless, so… Small. He had always had confidence, always trusted his power, his ability. And yet, he couldn't do anything to help the man in his arms. He couldn't rescue the person that had become his entire world. Not this time.

"Why…? W-Why'd you… Sothe…" Why was this time different?

Drops fell lightly upon porcelain cheeks.

**"Tentmates"  
>Rating: K+<strong>

Sothe and Tormod aren't tentmates. They don't share a tent… _Officially_. Officially, the tent they sleep in is Sothe and Micaiah's, which has certainly led to many a confused soldier (or prince) seeking out the commander of Daein's forces. It was never an official, discussed arrangement; it just… happened.

After Tormod had unexpectedly appeared, saved Sothe (a detail that the sage would _not_ let go) and joined the Daein Liberation Army, he had all but fastened himself to the rogue's side. They were treating each other's wounds after the battle, catching up after three years apart, trading stories… Micaiah walked into the tent a while after sunset, finding the two propped against each other on the cot, fast asleep. A smile tugging at her lips, she left to ask Jill if she could share her tent.

The pattern just kept repeating. Eventually, Micaiah just went straight to Jill's tent. As some of Tormod's gear slowly migrated to Sothe's tent, so did the light mage's few belongings relocate to the dracoknight's. So, the sleeping situation? It wasn't intentional… The friends just lost track of time. … Repeatedly. It became a habit.

So, really, Sothe shouldn't feel offended or rejected right now by the fact that Tormod is not in the tent. … He does. A little. Maybe. But he doesn't have any _reason_ to. Officially. Honestly, he's not surprised. The day was… Eventful.

Izuka is a creep. Anyone and everyone can see that fact clearly (well, maybe not Pelleas). But no one expected the poisoning of an ally.

Then again, the heartless maniac doesn't really think of laguz as anything more than tools.

Thankfully, Rafiel kept Muarim from succumbing to the poison and turning feral… Sothe didn't even want to think of what might've happened without him. Hearing Tormod's voice cracking, watching his foster father try to push him away… The scene had been heartbreaking enough without a tragic ending.

Confronting Izuka went about as well as you'd expect… Well, better, actually, considering no one died. Sothe watched Tormod's hand twitch for his tome as the cur went on about "sub-humans" being nothing more than pawns. Rather than burn the man to a crisp (which Sothe still sees as a viable option), the sage stormed out of the tent. Micaiah kept the rogue from chasing after his friend, and he supposed she might have been right. He needed some time alone.

So Sothe left him alone. He watched for a burst of orange all throughout dinner, his own meal remaining mostly untouched (the rogue would take a bite whenever Micaiah urged him, but the rest of his time was spent ceaselessly searching for the sage). The meal hour came and went. Eventually Sothe prepared a plate and started toward what was officially Tormod's tent, shared with Muarim and Vika. As he approached, however, he began to doubt himself. If the sage wanted company, he would seek it out. What he must have needed was time alone with his family. Golden eyes studied the plate, the flaps of the tent. The rogue tracked down Vika and requested that she deliver the food to Tormod, leaving before the raven could even utter an affirmative.

So Sothe sat on the cot, sharpening his dagger, waiting for Tormod's imminent arrival.

Only, he still hasn't arrived, and Sothe can see the fire dying outside the tent. Now, don't get the wrong idea. He isn't _lonely_. Thieves don't get lonely. He certainly doesn't _miss_ the rambunctious redhead's company… He's just… Used to the schedule the two adopted. Maybe a _little_ worried about his friend. And, frankly, he just can't sleep. So he decides to take a walk. Patrol the campsite. … Check on Muarim's condition. The rogue hesitates outside of the tiger's tent, finally venturing a peek inside. Just as he expected, the fire sage is sitting attentively at his foster father's side, the successfully delivered plate practically untouched. Sothe shifts, thinking over the situation once more, but eventually clears his throat. Crimson eyes blink up at him, fingers twitch for the tome, relax, lips force a smile; Sothe feels a painful tug in his chest at the sight of it.

"Hey." Tormod nods his head, inviting his green-haired comrade in, before turning back toward Muarim, the man still sleeping upon the bedroll. The rogue moves to sit next to his friend, chewing at his lip. "… Thanks for the food."

"No problem. … How's he been doing?"

"Woke up for a little. Been asleep since." Sothe nods, studying the sage. He wants to comfort him. He wants to see a real smile. He also knows that consoling others… Not one of his strong suits. But then, what kind of friend is he? He can imagine the pain. If Micaiah had been the victim of something like this… His eyes fell to his suddenly incredibly interesting boots, fingers starting to pick at the dried mud caked to them.

"… I would've killed him."

A snort leaves Tormod as the sage recognizes the comment for what it was: his socially-inept comrade's attempt at comforting him. "I thought that would cause a lot of problems…"

"Yeah, but it would've solved at least one." Another chuckle. Sothe glances and notices the hints of a smile tugging his friend's lips – a real smile. "Muarim'll be happy to hear it, though." Tormod nods and the two fall into silence once again. "So, um… Where's Vika?"

"I told her to take a nap, but she said that it was too weird that I was in the tent 'for once.'" Crimson eyes roll and the redhead shrugs, but a small smile crosses his lips.

Sothe snickers softly, a hint of pink ghosting his cheeks. "Yeah, what do you think you're doing? Since when do you stay in your own tent?"

"I think what you _mean_ to ask is, 'Since when do I stay in a tent without _you_?'" The sage shoots him a smirk, playful personality rekindling in Sothe's presence. Pink blossoms into shades of scarlet; the rogue keeps his eyes fixed upon his boots. The redhead's grin only widens, an eyebrow arching at this reaction. He allows himself to scoot closer, gently nudging his flustered friend, who promptly rolls his eyes and bats him away. Tormod laughs, familiar radiant smile gracing his lips; the rogue couldn't help the hint of one that crossed his own. "… Thanks for coming, Sothe."

Vika stumbles into the tent an hour or so later, a lantern dutifully helping her avoid walking into every tree in the vicinity. However, she hadn't been expecting to find her boss and his friend nestled together, both sleeping soundly in the other's embrace.


End file.
